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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔

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It had been three years—three years of reliving the same day, over and over again. Sunshine drifted through the house, dragging on a cigarette, its smoke curling around her. She had picked up her sister's habit in a desperate attempt to feel something, anything. 

As she reached the living room, Sunshine's gaze landed on Constance sprawled out on the couch, the soft melodies from the record player filling the space. A drink dangled precariously from her fingers, threatening to crash at any moment. Just as Sunshine took a step closer, a flicker of movement caught her eye—the ghost of Constance appeared beside her urging her to turn her head.

Sunshine glanced at Constance when a voice rang out—a man's voice with a childlike edge calling for his grandmother.

Constance sighed deeply, locking eyes with Sunshine. "He's all yours." With that, she vanished, leaving Sunshine reeling.

A blonde boy, around her frozen age, entered the living room, his gaze landing on Constance's lifeless body.

Sunshine's shoulders slumped, the cigarette trembling between her fingers. This couldn't be happening. Michael would be three years old now, and yet, here he was, grown before her eyes. Shock gripped her as she noticed the unmistakable blue eyes reflecting her own and the tousled hair that must have come from her. He was the spitting image of her.

Swallowing hard, she stubbed out her cigarette in a nearby ashtray. 

"No!" Michael cried, kneeling beside his grandmother, tears streaming down his cheeks. "No! Hey! Wake up! Please, wake up!"

"He looks just like you," she heard her father's voice beside her.

Sunshine blinked away her tears, acutely aware that there was a reason Constance had left him. The unnatural way he appeared grown only deepened her unease. The more she looked at him, the more she recognized the darkness that once lurked behind Tate's eyes.

She turned to her father. "You have to help him."

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Ben had been having sessions with Michael for the past couple of weeks, and Sunshine watched from a distance. He really was trying to be better. Ben had convinced her that perhaps seeing his mother would help him, and so she stood there, her gaze fixed on him as he sat in the backyard, engrossed in whatever homework Ben had assigned.

Taking a deep breath, Sunshine steeled herself before making her presence known. She stepped onto the grass, the soft crunch of blades underfoot drawing Michael's attention. His head snapped toward her, eyes widening as he studied her.

"Mom?" Michael breathed.

Sunshine felt a smile break across her face, a warmth flooding her heart. She walked over to him, stopping just in front of where he sat on the brick ledge—the same one Violet used to sneak cigarettes on. "You know who I am?" she asked, tilting her head.

"I remember your face," Michael said, nodding eagerly. "I remember what you said to me."

Sunshine blinked as she fought to swallow back the tears threatening to spill over. It seemed impossible that he could hold onto those memories, yet here he was, standing before her as a young man, defying the passage of time. 

Everything about her pregnancy and his birth had been confusing, and now, facing him, those questions felt irrelevant. 

"Why'd you wait so long to talk to me?" Michael asked, his gaze searching hers for answers.

Sunshine's eyes drifted, her heart heavy as she searched for the right words. "I've always been here," 

"Are you going to stay?" he asked, hope shining in his eyes.

With a soft smile, Sunshine stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her son. He melted into her embrace, returning it with equal warmth. "Of course," 

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"What are you doing? Stay away from my shit!"

"He was just exploring," Ben replied calmly.

"Exploring? He's messed up!"

Sunshine moved through the hallway as she followed the voices, wondering where Michael had gone.

"You stay away from my shit, you understand?"

She heard Tate's voice and peeked around the corner, spotting them in her old bedroom. Michael sat on the bed, clutching something in his hands, while Ben and Tate loomed over him.

"Well, I just want to be like you, Dad," Michael explained, his voice small.

"Who told you that?" Tate snapped.

"Other spirits. They whispered to me."

"You didn't spring from my nutsack, got it?" Tate stepped forward threateningly, but Ben blocked him. "Not even I could create something as monstrous, as evil, as you."

Sunshine stepped fully into the room as she caught Tate's gaze. "Tate."

"Sunshine," he whispered, his face falling at her tone.

Her eyes landed on what Michael was holding, and a cold ripple cascaded over her skin. She moved closer to him and gently grabbed the rubber mask from his hands. "Don't touch this ever again, do you understand me?"

Michael looked hurt, his eyes wide with confusion, but he nodded.

She turned back to Tate, handing him the mask. "Here. Just go, okay?"

Tate's gaze fell on the mask, guilt flickering in his eyes before he shifted them to Michael. "You stay away from me," 

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All the progress Michael had made felt like it had been tossed down the drain after his father's rejection. In the wake of that pain, he began to spiral toward the dark side, experimenting with his troubling thoughts on the ghosts in the house for his own twisted amusement. As his behavior grew more erratic, both Ben and Sunshine started to lose hope.

When a new couple decided to move in, Sunshine leaned over the staircase, sharing a cigarette with Violet.

"I don't know what to do, Vi," Sunshine sighed, handing the cigarette to her sister and rubbing her exhausted eyes.

"You can't help someone who doesn't want to be saved, Sunny," Violet replied with a shrug, taking a drag. "I know you see it too. I used to think Tate was evil... but he... Michael is death."

Almost on cue, a shrill scream echoed from downstairs. Both girls exchanged worried glances before looking down, only to see their father dash into the next room.

"Stay here," Sunshine instructed, her voice more weary rather than fearful, before she took off down the steps.

As she ran into the room, the new owners lay stabbed to death, blood splattered across the walls. Sunshine's gaze slowly drifted up to see the Rubber Man standing before her. For a fleeting moment, she thought it was Tate, but he hadn't killed in three years—or so Ben had claimed.

Then, a hidden force sent Ben flying backward, slamming him against the hallway wall.

The Rubber Man slowly removed his mask, revealing Michael underneath. Tears stung Sunshine's eyes, and she struggled to hold them back. She backed against the wall, her chest tightening with despair.

"Let him go, Michael," she managed to plead.

Michael simply stared at her, his expression blank.

"Those were good people," Ben gasped, fighting against the invisible grip holding him. "They deserved a chance."

"They don't belong here," Michael finally replied, his voice devoid of emotion.

Sunshine instinctively covered her mouth, trying to suppress the sobs threatening to escape. There was no saving him; there was no saving her baby. She longed for this nightmare to mean something, but all it brought was an overwhelming sense of loss.

"Because of what you did, they'll be here forever,"

The ghosts of the new owners materialized, looking around in confusion. "What's happening? I don't feel right,"

"You didn't have to kill them," Sunshine cried, shaking her head in disbelief. "You don't have to be like this, Michael."

Michael's gaze locked onto hers for a moment. He dropped the mask and turned his attention to the new ghosts. Lifting his hands, he defied the laws of the world, fire sparking at their feet until their souls were reduced to ash.

Sunshine gasped as she forced herself to look away.

Michael collapsed to his knees, the toll of his powers draining him. Ben broke free from the magical hold that had confined him and rushed to Sunshine, wrapping his arms around her as she cried.

"I never could have helped you," Ben looked toward Michael. "It was foolish to think I could."

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Sunshine didn't reveal herself to Michael again after that. His true calling had knocked on the door, and he left the house—just like that. Several months passed, and yet again, new buyers arrived. But this time, they weren't just any prospective owners; they were a witch and a warlock, curious and intent on uncovering the secrets of Michael Langdon. 

After they spoke with Constance and her father, Sunshine knew deep down that she held the answers they truly needed.

Now, she sat across from the witch and warlock, perched in an old chair as they waited on the edge of the couch, impatient for her to speak.

Sunshine glanced down at her hands, hesitating as memories she'd long buried began to resurface. "Before I found out I was pregnant with Michael, I had a nightmare. I was on stage, playing piano, and then... I looked down and saw hooves scraping me from the inside."

The witch rolled her eyes, crossing one leg over the other with an annoyed sigh. "And what does this have to do with anything?"

"Just shut up," the warlock muttered, shooting her a glare.

Sunshine flicked her gaze between them and continued, undeterred. "After my abortion, I went to the hospital for abdominal pain. The doctor confirmed I was still pregnant, but she saw something... something that scared her so much that it made her faint."

The witch and warlock exchanged a glance, caught between disbelief and a gnawing sense that Sunshine might not be exaggerating.

"She told me I was carrying the Beast," Sunshine murmured. "I know it sounds insane, but given everything that's happened since... I can't deny it."

The witch leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "You're saying he's the fucking Antichrist?"

"Nothing about Michael was ever normal—not his birth, not his growth. He came into this world with a purpose." Sunshine's voice strained. "I distanced myself from him after what happened. But then strange things started happening. Every day, a murder of crows would circle the house. The temperature inside became unbearable. And then... they came."

The warlock leaned forward, his eyes fixed intently on Sunshine. "Who?"

"Satanists," she replied, voice lowering as she relived the moment. "They looked at Michael as if he were their lord and savior." She paused, watching the disbelief settle on their faces. "When they came, it was like they opened a door for him, one that showed him his true path."

"Why didn't you stop them?" Madison asked, now completely absorbed.

Sunshine let out a short, humorless laugh. "I thought it was some kind of sick joke," she admitted. "A part of me had always known... but I didn't want to believe it. Not until they kidnapped a woman, cut out her heart... and fed it to him."

She took a shaky breath, struggling to keep her composure. "It was then that I decided I had to kill him, that he couldn't go on like this. But... I barely got close enough before he tried to burn my soul." She allowed herself a small, bitter smile. "Tate saved me."

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Sunshine sat at the bottom of the steps, tears consuming her afterlife. She couldn't process how everything had turned out like this. The world was going to end—and it certainly felt like it.

Madison appeared in the hallway, walking toward her, a flicker of sympathy in her eyes.

Sunshine quickly wiped away her tears. "I have nothing else to tell you, I'm sorry."

Madison crouched down to be eye level with her. "I think we've got enough on him anyway."

Sunshine slumped, her shoulders sagging. "Then what do you want?"

Madison forced a small smile, trying to connect. "Seems like you're having a hard time. You and that Tate guy have a real angsty thing going on."

Sunshine licked the inside of her cheek, looking defeated. "I can't be around him... He's a monster."

"He didn't seem like a monster to me."

Sunshine let out a bitter laugh. "You don't know him. You can't imagine what it's like to know all the horrible things he's done."

"And still be in love with him?" Madison tilted her head, seeing right through her.

Sunshine looked down at her hands. "I never stopped."

"I've done things I'm not proud of in my life and my second life. But those were my choices. I think what happened to Tate was different. He wasn't the real evil here."

Sunshine's gaze flickered with hope. "What?"

Madison held her gaze. "It's like this house used him as a vessel to create something way, way worse. Just like it's used you." She forced another small smile. "My guess? Any evil in Tate left with Michael."

Sunshine hated that she was making sense. "If only that were true."

Madison nodded knowingly. "Maybe you just need to see the truth for yourself." And with that, Madison blew a glittering powder in her face.

She blinked, her mind slowly untangling a realization that washed over her. When she looked at Tate—no, when she looked at the Rubber Man—she saw the darkness, that same malevolent shadow she had long associated with him. But now, she recognized it as something separate, something ancient. It had lurked within the walls of this house, an evil force biding its time, pulling strings from the shadows, using both of them as puppets to orchestrate Michael's birth.

A heavy breath escaped her, like she'd been holding it for years. A weight, buried deep in her chest, finally lifted.

It wasn't Tate. It had never been Tate.

Sunshine was so caught up in the rush of realization that she hadn't even noticed Madison had disappeared. Gathering herself, she rose from the steps, her voice wavering slightly as she called out, "Tate?"

Moments later, quick footsteps echoed down the staircase. Tate appeared, stopping on the last step.

He swallowed, struggling to find the words that could possibly be enough. "I'm so sorry for everything."

Sunshine's lip trembled as she reached out, her fingers lightly tracing his face. He stepped down to her level, leaning into her touch, almost afraid she might vanish. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close, and the familiar scent of him washed over her.

"I love you so much," she whispered, her voice breaking as tears slipped down her cheeks. Tate's arms tightened around her, and they stayed like that, holding each other.

"I love you, Sunshine," Tate whispered. He buried his face in her hair, and tears spilled down his cheeks as he clung to her, holding her so tightly he was almost afraid to let go.

Sunshine pulled back slightly, her gaze meeting his, taking in the familiar depths of his beautiful eyes. With a quiet breath, Tate leaned down, and their lips met in a kiss. Everything they went through faded into the background as they held each other, grateful to be in each other's arms once more. Forever.

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